


the stars can't match the beauty in your eyes

by squidnie



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Bellamy could hear Clarke's radio, F/M, PWP, Reunion Fic, Smut, They're in Becca's bunker because why not, after season 4, there's a bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-10
Updated: 2017-09-10
Packaged: 2018-12-26 05:32:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12052353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/squidnie/pseuds/squidnie
Summary: It’s easy to lean in and kiss her like he’s done it a million times. Her lips are chapped and pliant under his own. Her body curves up into his like a magnet. Her hands find his hair and his find her waist and then the kiss is deep, all-consuming and Bellamy thinks he’s been waiting for this his whole life.





	the stars can't match the beauty in your eyes

**Author's Note:**

> Apparently I write smut for personal self-care. It's whatever.

It happens naturally, like everything else between them.

Bellamy follows Clarke to her room still going on about danger and supplies and patrols and she argues with him, all business and logic. She kicks her boots off and shrugs out of her jacket, sets it over the chair in her room and perches herself at the foot of the ridiculously big, comfortable bed.

“We don’t have enough people for patrols, Bellamy, and you know that. We can take turns for a few hours at a time but anything more than that is going to burn them out.”

Bellamy doesn’t miss the fact that she says _them_ , not _us_. Because they’re not allowed to get burned out on saving the world – what little is left of it, anyway.

He toes his own boots off and tosses his jacket over hers. The bed sinks underneath his weight and throws off his balance, sending him tipping into the woman next to him. Clarke smiles and pushes him away good-naturedly.

“One person can’t possibly cover the whole perimeter. If Elias shows up –”

“If Elias shows up then we’re probably fucked anyway.”

She’s not wrong. Bellamy knows she’s not wrong. But it’s in his nature to protect people, even when he knows he can’t.

“How did you survive in space for six years with only a set number of people to worry about?”

“You’d be surprised.” His tone is lighter than expected. “I’m very good at worrying about things that are out of my control. The Ark, the Earth, everyone in the bunker, you…”

It takes a moment for Clarke to respond. “You worried about me?”

And Bellamy almost laughs because she has to ask? She knows him so well. She knew him better than anyone, at least, before their six year separation. But no – he knows neither of them could have changed so much to have ruined that between them. They’re still the same in the most important ways.

“I thought you were dead, Clarke. For months.” The admission feels like a physical punch to his gut and Bellamy has to take a deep breath before continuing. “When I first heard your voice again… I thought I was dreaming. Or hallucinating. But you were real… fuck, you were real, and you were all alone.

“Then you found Madi and I thought – not that you couldn’t do it alone, but that you shouldn’t have to.”

“I did what I thought you would do,” Clarke says. It makes Bellamy stop, turn to her and really look at her. Her expression is soft and open, blue eyes wide and meeting his with honesty. Her hair, which she pulled out of its braid, is hanging in waves over her shoulders. Short and tinged pink at the ends. Bellamy thinks it suits her.

“She might already be a lost cause, then.” Because morbid humor is his specialty, and it makes Clarke laugh.

It’s easy to lean in and kiss her like he’s done it a million times. Her lips are chapped and pliant under his own. Her body curves up into his like a magnet. Her hands find his hair and his find her waist and then the kiss is deep, all-consuming and Bellamy thinks he’s been waiting for this his whole life.

“Wait.” Small hands push gently on his chest. “Why now?”

Bellamy smiles. “Because I think we’ve been waiting long enough. Haven’t we?”

This time it’s Clarke that initiates the kiss. It’s a weird mix between soft and sweet and rough and needy. Their teeth clash at one point, making Bellamy laugh as he turns his attention to the soft skin of Clarke’s neck. She lets out the most beautiful sound when he bites her pulse point. He can feel it settle in his spine and set his body on fire.

Clarke’s hands are all over. He feels them pulling at his shirt, then on his stomach when the shirt is off. His own hands lift Clarke’s shirt and fumble with her bra.

Clarke laughs, light and airy. “The great Bellamy Blake can’t defeat two small metal hooks?”

“Six years, Clarke,” is his response. “It’s been six years.”

She smirks. “Then we better get you off, huh?”

“You first.”

He loses track of moments then, in a whirlwind of lips and hands, skin and sweat and Bellamy swears he can feel Clarke’s heartbeat against his own.

“Your tits, Clarke. Fuck.” He can’t help but admire her body out loud as his lips descend on a nipple, sucking hard then soothing the sting with his tongue as Clarke keens.

“More, Bellamy,” she says, “You can do it harder.” But he has other plans, so he tweaks her nipple once before moving lower on the bed.

Clarke spreads her legs, allowing him an unobstructed view of where she’s wet and hot for him. He flashes her a smile before bending to kiss her thigh. “Fuck, Clarke,” he says, spreading her labia with both thumbs. Clarke whines, her hips rocking up toward his face. “Look at that pretty cunt all wet. You’re fucking dripping. I have to taste it.”

At the first touch of his tongue, Clarke’s body arches and she moans, fingers finding Bellamy’s hair again and tugging. It doesn’t take him long to keep his promise to get her off first. His lips latch around her clit and he sucks and that’s it – he can feel Clarke’s orgasm in the way her thighs shake. He slips two fingers into her, feeling the rhythmic pulsing of her walls. She moans again. This time it sounds like his name.

The next time she comes it’s on his fingers with his mouth on hers and his other hand on her breast. Clarke cries out his name, arms around Bellamy’s neck like it’s the only thing keeping her tethered to earth.

It takes her longer to come down the second time. Bellamy enjoys watching each barely-there change in her as she does. He’s got her curled up in his arms as she opens her eyes and a smile graces her lips.

“How are you that good if you haven’t had sex in six years?” She teases.

“Maybe you’re just easy to please right now,” he replies, and that gets him on his back with Clarke straddling his waist and it’s not like he’s going to complain.

Clarke is suddenly serious as she looks down to the bulge in his boxer-briefs. “You didn’t come, did you?”

“I was a little preoccupied.”

Clarke rolls her eyes. “Let’s fix that, then.”

Bellamy almost loses it when she reaches into his boxers and wraps her hand around him. After so long, having someone else – having Clarke touch him is almost too much. But he bites his lip and pulls himself back from the edge. Clarke pulls down the last bit of clothing separating them and stops, her eyes wide.

“Hey,” Bellamy says, pressing himself up on his elbows. “You don’t have to do anything.”

The look Clarke throws him is pure fire and damn it if it doesn’t turn him on more. “I want to. I just wasn’t expecting so… much.”

Bellamy’s tone is deadpan. “Wow, thanks, that is so flattering.”

Clarke kisses him to shut him up and it almost works, if not for the loud laugh that echoes between them. Clarke grins against his lips and he almost teases her about it but then her hand is around his dick again and he can’t remember what he was going to say.

“What do you want?” She asks, tone conversational as if asking him what the weather was like today. “How long has it been since you’ve had a blowjob?”

And fuck her, that smirk on her lips says she knows exactly what she’s doing to him.

Bellamy groans, reaching for her hands to stop the maddening slow slide she’s giving him. “I just really want to be in you, Clarke.”

He sees her throat bob as she swallows. “Say it again. Tell me exactly what you want.”

Bellamy smirks. He knows, though he doesn’t exactly know how he knows, that what she’s asking for are the words he used earlier. The dirty promises that worked her up so well before. His hands find her tits and he thumbs at her nipples, eyes on hers as he gives her what she wants.

“Fuck, Clarke. I want to be inside you. I want your pretty pussy wrapped around my cock. Been thinking about it forever, babe. What you’ll feel like. Give me your pretty cunt, huh?”

The whine that Clarke gives him is almost as good as the feeling of her nails scratching down his chest. She lowers herself onto him – it’s a slow movement and Bellamy takes it, waiting for her to get used to his size. Her brow furrows and Bellamy leans up to kiss it, smooth it out and help her relax.

He sees stars when she bottoms out on him.

Clarke’s movements start slow, shaky. Bellamy’s hands find her hips to guide her and after a moment they find a rhythm that makes Clarke moan every time Bellamy’s cock hits that spot inside her.

The image is one Bellamy wants to remember for the rest of his life; of Clarke over him, bouncing on him and taking the pleasure he can give her, her lip caught between her teeth.

When she starts asking him for more, for harder, he flips them over. Clarke moans as her back hits the bedspread. Her legs bend up to wrap around his waist and Bellamy pounds into her hard, trying to give her everything she asks for.

“Harder, Bellamy, I’m so close. Give me more.”

His fingers find her clit and trip over it, clumsy, as his lips find hers. His movements are jerky and uncoordinated but all he can hear form Clarke is “yes, so good, fuck, Bellamy.”

He realizes that he’s speaking too, his voice deep and rough in a way that he hasn’t heard himself be in a long time. “You feel so good around me, Clarke, fuck. I’m gonna come.”

And she moans, high-pitched and keening and he knows she’s close, too. He just needs to get her there. He takes her hand in his free hand, holding tightly, needing to be even closer than they are already.

“Come for me, Clarke. Let me see it again. I want to feel it around my cock.”

The tension in Clarke’s body snaps and she comes with a sob. It’s only a few thrusts later, encouraged by the fluttering of Clarke’s inner walls, that Bellamy follows.

He collapses on the bed next to her and pulls her close. Clarke’s body is shaking, but Bellamy’s pretty sure his is as well.

Bellamy’s not sure how much time passes before Clarke speaks. He’s brushing his fingers through her hair, taking in the feeling of her against him, and she whispers against his chest. “Stay with me.”

Bellamy smiles. She has to ask? “Yeah, Clarke,” he says into her hair. “That’s the plan.”

**Author's Note:**

> Unbeta'd. I love kudos and comments give me life.


End file.
